EDITING My Sugar Momma {Lesbian Story}

twenty seven

After he left, Quinn rushed over to me to give me a hug. Surely she was expecting me to cry from how scared I was but for whatever reason, I couldn't bring myself to cry. Maybe crying the night before had dried me out but I had a feeling that it was more to do with the nervous anticipation of when my path will inevitably cross with Layla's again.

The car Carlos had driven wasn't the usual black Bentley but an average black Volkswagen sedan. Though the interior was seriously upgraded, from the outside it would easily be overlooked. The fact that he was driving this to blend into traffic made me uneasy. Yet I got in the backseat with Quinn, allowing him to drive to the airport.

Naturally, Quinn flipped when we got to and inside the private jet. The familiar warm tones of the interior both soothed me and made me anxious. I immediately grabbed the soft faux fur blanket I had been wrapped in the last time and curled up onto the couch, wrapping myself in it like a cocoon.

My best friend sat next to me on the couch with the remote for the TV to put on a movie. "So much for trying to get you a routine and time to heal."

Her words stuck with me as the plane took off. With Carlos around, I'd constantly be reminded of Layla. On the drive he had notified us that all the arrangements in France was done. He didn't say it but I knew it was Layla who had booked it all.

Being on her plane without her was strange. Experiencing something that clearly meant a lot to her without her left a numbing pang in my chest. A part of me wanted to sneak to the bed which would no doubt smell like her but I dismissed the idea knowing it'd be too much for my emotions to handle.

We arrived at a small airport, one that looked like it was more part of a pilot's club than one for out of country tourists. We transferred to a heavily tinted SUV that took us to the villa. When we walked up to the villa, I was surprised to hear the crashing of waves.

When we got inside though, I was blown away. The light warm interior reminded me of the private jet but in a home. The exterior had a sandy coloured stone while the interior focused on a warm white that perfectly suited the light tones throughout the villa. Just past the modern and open kitchen was the dining room with a large window looking out to the ocean.

"Which room would you like your bags in, Miss Kingston?" Carlos inquired nearby.

"Oh... sorry, one second." I turned to head to where I assumed the bedrooms would be when I stopped. "You can just call me Brielle."

"Would that make you more comfortable?" He asked with a friendly smile while I nodded in response. "Not a problem then."

Hurrying to the bedrooms, I chose the first one which had a view of the ocean and a big bed. I returned to Carlos and tried to take my bags though he wouldn't let me. Quinn seemed a bit excited about the villa as well. It seemed a bit of a waste to be in a nice place while in a scary situation. Then again, it also made sense since Layla had booked the place.

The fact that she had picked this place out for me seemed oddly personal. The way everything was laid out and looked made me feel more relaxed than I cared to admit. The stone patio before the ocean held not only a pool but a hot tub as well.

My cheeks burned and a hand came up to my mouth when I recalled my last visit in one had been with Layla. I wondered if she had looked at the amenities and seen the tag for it, smirking to herself as she also recalled our intimate moment. My thoughts were rapidly getting wild and I had to force myself to focus on the view of the endless ocean before me to distract myself.

We had stayed in the French villa for almost a week before Carlos got the call from Layla to return.

Most of my time was spent on the patio and admiring the ocean or reading one of the few English books from the bookshelf. The sound of the waves and the sea salt scent in the breeze was soothing enough to keep my anxiety from going out of control.